The Results of Guilt
by TheGhostOfCorporateFuture
Summary: Canon. Looking at Bill and Charlie that particular feeling soared, it enveloped him, seeming to crawl over his skin, throbbing in his chest, clogging his throat. Rated T or M later.H/G drug use. Some unimportant OC's CHAPTERS BEING REPLACED IN WEEK OR SO
1. After The Battle

Disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter

Umm.. Hi. Enjoy. You don't have to read and review but if you want to you can.

Thanks. Ariel

Harry awoke from his not-so peaceful slumber panting. He couldn't get more then five minutes sleep before the faces of those from the battle would flash through his mind, accusing him of his part in their deaths.

There was a pressing weight on his chest so intense he did not feel the pain that occupied every muscle in his body. All he could feel was the grief. The cold, heart-wrenching grief. Grief for his parents, for Sirius, even grief for Snape who he despised yet, had been protecting him all along...

Even more pronounced then the grief was the guilt. It seemed to pulse through his very blood. And even though, somewhere deep in his conscious mind he knew he was not to blame, the weighing on his heart drove out every other thought than the guilt, than the grief.

He took a shaky breath in attempt to compose himself. Wiping away the sweat that had gathered on his forehead, he pulled himself out of bed and stretched, regretting the action instantly as pain surged white-hot through his body. _A lot less than what I deserve_.. he thought bitterly.

Harry was then pulled out of his self loathing thoughts as Ron and Hermione entered the room clumsily, looking dead on their feet. Upon seeing Harry Hermione leapt through the space separating them and threw her arms around him in an embrace. "Harry," she cried into his shirt. Harry didn't like that tone. It was congratulating. In some ways, it hurt the most.

Ron, whose eyes were slowly shutting of their own accord did not see the emotion that momentarily showed on his friends face. Letting Hermione go, Harry asked, "Are you going to bed just now?" his face now blank.

"Err...yeah. We were with the family" Ron replied. Correction, that hurt the most.

Harry felt a pang of sadness and the guilt weighing on his chest intensified.

As they made their way to the beds Harry bade them good-night (though it was only around noon) and headed toward the showers. Getting undressed, Harry got a good look at himself in the mirror for the first time in what seemed like years. He almost didn't recognize himself at first. Bruises and gashes covered every inch of his body and face. He noted several new scars in addition to the old: The scar from Slytherins locket, burns from Gringotts, the still half healed snake bite on his arm from Nagini and his most recent one; a long, black mark that ran down the length of his chest from the killing curse he was victim to only hours before. He briefly considered getting his injuries cared for when he aggressively brushed the thought away. There were people who died in the war and here he was, whining about the little marks it leaves behind.

After a very much needed shower, Harry came out to discover his clothes lain out neatly on his bed. Assuming Hermione put them there, Harry quickly changed. Stowing his invisibility cloak and all three wands into his pocket, Harry made his way past the sleeping figures of his friends and down into the common room.

Coming down the stairs, Harry dearly hoped there wouldn't be any unwanted guests (fans) occupying it at his arrival. The thought of fans brought forth the image of little Colin Creevey to his mind, lying cold and lifeless in a middle of a battle he, Harry, had caused.

Shaking his head as if to rid them of the unwanted thoughts, he reached the common room to see Bill and Charlie on the chairs by the fire drinking what appeared to Harry to be firewhiskey.

At the sight of Harry, Bill conjured a glass and filled it to the brim with the amber liquid which he wordlessly handed out for Harry to take. Taking a seat, Harry looked down into the glass to find his own reflection staring back at him.

He was wearing a blank face, not betraying any of the guilt he felt coursing through him. Looking at Bill and Charlie that particular feeling soared, it enveloped him, seeming to crawl over his skin, throbbing in his chest, clogging his throat.

To distract himself from the direction his thoughts were going, Harry brought a slightly shaking cup to his lips and downed the drink in one. Ignoring the fiery sensation burning down his throat, Harry silently held out his glass to Bill. Bill raised an eyebrow but obeyed and for the second time that night, Bill filled Harry's glass with the strong alcohol.

By Harry's fifth glass his reaction to the firewhiskey changed drastically. No longer did Harry ignore the burning in his throat, but embraced it. It drove away the bad thoughts, the haunted memories, the grief and importantly, the guilt. He found himself drinking slowly, savoring the drink and the sense of peace it was giving him.

Harry, in fact was so lost in the drink that he did not see Bill and Charlie conversing quietly in the corner, throwing glances at him every so often. Nor did he register that Charlie stood up abruptly and announce he was going to find a bed to sleep in for the night. And yet was Harry to see that only five feet away from him Bill slipped a liquid that was not firewhiskey in with his drink.

Harry grabbed the drink offered to him and drank slowly but deeply. As Harry finished he made to hand Bill back his drink to, once again, refill, when his eyelids drooped and, his body going slack, Harry fell unconscious.

Bill picked up the empty glass that had toppled to the floor and vanished it. Then, slipping the vial of sleeping draught back into the pocket of his robes, turned to see his brother walk back into the room.

As Bill levitated Harry up the staircase and into his bed Charlie trailed behind and took out the potion that Harry will most definitely need in the morning.

When Harry was in his bed Charlie put the bottle labeled 'hangover remedy' on his bedside table and both he and Bill made their way to the door.

"I'm sorry" the words echoed in the silence of the dorm room, causing Bill and Charlie to stop in their tracks. They turned slowly, wondering if the sleeping draught had failed when they saw the young boy was dreaming.

"Fred, I'm sorry.." came out Harry's throaty whisper which even in sleep captured the agonizing guilt he was feeling inside.

"Tonks, Remus I'm sorry" Harry chocked out again, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. Charlie looked at Bill worriedly, a question in his face which clearly said, "what do we do?" Bill shook his head in answer and mentally smacked himself. He should have known Harry would take the blame.

Motioning Charlie out of the room he and Bill went out in search of dreamless potion for Harry, keeping in mind that they only had 2hours for the potion to wear off.


	2. I'm leaving

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**A/N I know before I said I don't care if you review but really...it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside so keep it coming.**

Harry turned and faced Fred but did not meet his eyes. He did not want to see the anger in them, the accusing glare that Harry could feel on his face.

All those from the battle circled him. All with the same looks of anger and disgust on their pale, dead faces.

Gathering up all his courage, Harry looked up into Fred's eyes and saw that the mischievous twinkle they usually held were gone. He saw only anger there, piercing into Harry's soul, bringing forth the guilt. It made Harry want something, need something, but no matter how far he looked, he could not find what he was looking for.

"You killed me Harry" Fred said, his voice thick with loathing.

"Fred, I'm sorry.." Harry pleaded. "I was only trying to help"

"Helping is judged by results, not intentions. Look at the results of your 'helping' Look!" Fred screamed. "I'm dead… and it's all your fault. Stay away from my family, Potter" Fred spat out before he dissolved into a thin mist.

Harry turned to find Lupin and Tonks glaring at him. "Tonks, Remus I'm sorry" Harry said sincerely.

They then told Harry how he could never be like his parents, how he let them down. How he will let their son down if he continues to live. Harry, whose eyes had fallen to his shoes snapped them back up to their faces at this. The look Lupin gave him stopped Harry's heart. Remus began to transform into a werewolf and pounce on Harry when in desperation Harry grabbed onto his wand thinking 'let me leave'

Harry awoke several hours later in the kitchen at the Burrow, shaking and sweating. He could not think how he got there. The last thing he remembered was drinking firewhiskey with Bill and Charlie and then Harry only remembered the dreams, the accusing, the cold looks he received from the people he killed.

He remembered Fred and what he said to him. To stay away from his family.

_It's not real_ Harry thought desperately._ It's all in your head_.

'_Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real_?' Dumbledore's words rang through Harry's mind, clenching at his heart, stealing the last bit of hope he was holding onto. That was when Harry Potter realized, he was a murderer.

Back at Hogwarts Professor-Correction, Headmistress McGonagall, was brought out of her writing a letter to the Ministry by a buzzing on her desk. She looked up startled at the object that was in the shape of a flat disk and, at the moment, buzzing and spinning.

She did not know what half of the things in Albus Dumbledore's office were but this she was familiar with. This was the ward detector. Somebody had just apparated out of Hogwarts.

Harry stood shakily from his spot on the floor in the Burrow's kitchen. Only then realizing he was gripping the elder wand tightly in his hand. Harry was confused and scared but at least he had a theory, he apparated out of Hogwarts. Oh if Hermione could see him now!

He looked around the Burrow and remembered that the Weasley's had been living at Aunt Muriel's place and their home had been vacant for quite some time. It seemed to be a little wrecked but it was nothing permanent.

Harry decided to wander the house a bit and shortly after he found himself in Ginny's room. His heart throbbed and only now did his eyes sting a little. He hurt her. He left her alone at Hogwarts to get beat and tortured like he saw Neville. He walked right past her to die and he did not even say good-bye. Harry remembered her screams as he lied in Hagrid's arms, in what she presumed was dead. But the worst thing Harry did to her was take her brother from her. Let him die in a war that he, Harry, had caused.

Harry was unconsciously moving towards the kitchen. Why? He did not know, until he saw what he felt he had been looking for all along. Two bottles of firewhiskey were sitting on the cabinet, its door on its hinges. Grabbing them, Harry then saw something on the counter that caught his eye.

Neatly folded was what appeared to be a brochure to magical France. on the front in very neat writing it said, _To Fleur, maybe after that war your going on about ends, you and your new husband would like a change of scenery. From maman._

At this Harry had an idea. 'A change of scenery.' Perfect.

Back at Hogwarts all the Weasley's were huddled in the partly decimated common room. All with worried looks etched on their faces. They had just been informed of the apparition and, putting the pieces together they found that it was Harry.

Bill and Charlie who were both speaking of what happened that afternoon finished and sat down. Aurors and Ministry workers all over the country were getting word and starting their search for Harry Potter.

**A/N Sorry this one was so short but I hope if I update them fast enough you'll forgive me? Thanks, Ariel.**


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